


today when fox-kits come out of their den into snow

by Fluffypanda



Series: today when... [2]
Category: Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Alcohol, Bathing/Washing, Concubine AU, Cultural Differences, Culture Shock, Historical Fantasy, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Morning After, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 20:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: Tony is still getting used to his new life as Prince Steven's concubine.





	today when fox-kits come out of their den into snow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct continuation from the first story in the series, so you might want to read that one first if you haven't!
> 
> As always, thanks to [erawebuilt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/erawebuilt/pseuds/erawebuilt) for the beta work!

Morning did not greet Tony gently, sparing him nothing as he opened his eyes, and the sunlight pounded daggers into his skull. He groaned and shifted under the heavy blankets, rough wool and soft fur scraping against his bare skin, cursing everything that led to this moment.

He became aware of the taste of something putrid on his dry tongue, an urgent need in his bladder, and then something more than the usual results of a hard night’s drinking. Someone snored softly into his side, one arm greedily thrown over Tony’s stomach. An unusual weight sat around his neck, he ached all over, and a sticky mess leaked from his ass. He blinked fully awake.

Thick drapes hung around the bed cut off all but the barest sliver of light, which he had the misfortune of being in the path of. The closed off space stank of sex and sweat, thick and musky, a more than familiar scent to Tony.

He squinted through the gloom at the less familiar form of his bed partner, pale and blonde and more muscular than Tony typically allowed himself to like. Judging by certain aches currently making themselves known, Tony hadn’t been doing the penetrating. It had been years since he let anyone take such liberties with him, not since—he sat up, dizzy with confusion.

Pressing his palms to his eyes, he tried to think through his splitting headache. He put out a hand in search of the cool gold of his mask to soothe the ache, but faltered as memories that had been a distant blur finally caught up with him. His mask had been the first thing Gregory stripped from him upon his return home.

The return hadn’t been a pleasant one. Tony had looked up in shock at his brother’s mask, now wrought with the red-gold inlays he’d only previously seen on one other. He used Tony’s absence during their father’s death to seize what he had always thought belonged to him: the throne. Gregory had never accepted Howard’s choice to have Tony succeed him.

That had been weeks ago, before the long journey across the Lerusian Sea to this cold land. He had not thought himself so endeared to the symbol of his bloodline, yet he still felt bare without it. He would laugh if it were not for the stark reality staring him in the face, or rather sleeping soundly at his side.

The man he woke next to, Prince Steven Rogers of Eulim, was his master. For better or worse, he controlled Tony’s fate.

Tony swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and extricated himself from the prince’s grip. Still asleep, Steven frowned at the loss and curled in on himself. With a soft snort, Tony pushed the thick curtains aside to exit the little den of warmth, pulling a fur blanket around him.

He shivered as his feet hit the cold tiles, barely supporting him before his knees buckled and he nearly crumpled to the floor. He just managed to brace against a bedpost while he found his strength. He took a moment then stumbled the short distance to the chamber pot.

In full light, he could see the bruises that littered his body. Steven had been rough with him, resentful of the hunger that had him soaking up Tony’s every touch with the desperation of a starving man. Tony could still recall the heat of him now, the way he had held Tony down and taken what Tony had goaded him into wanting.

Stiffly, Tony crossed the room to where low-burning cinders glowed in the fireplace. There, he picked up the wine bottle he'd begun on the night before and gulped down a portion of it, washing the memory away. He tugged on the bell pull to call for a bath. The prince’s reluctance had been inconvenient, but not unexpected granted Eulim’s strange ideas about sexuality.

Tony wasn’t above using whatever leverage he could create. No one would care about the fate of an unwanted concubine wasting away in some countryside estate, but the prince's favored concubine had protection and was in a position to make allies, things Tony desperately needed.

Shivering even with his stolen blanket, Tony peeked outside. From the window, he could see much of the capital. Fresh snow coated rooftops in a powdery white, while the streets below had largely turned to muck. He watched with interest the various activities of the people tramping through it. In Illyra, it only ever snowed high in the mountains.

Eventually, Tony’s bath arrived. Half the slaves—no, servants, for this was Eulim and their necks bore no collar— hauled a huge tub into place before the fire while the others carried bucket after bucket of hot water to fill it. It was incredibly labor intensive compared to the baths back home. `They neither spoke nor met Tony’s eyes, and for all the time it took for them to answer his call, they were there and gone in hardly anytime at all, not even remaining to attend Tony during his bath.

Yesterday it had been much the same, with the servants bringing Tony food and drink without a word. Was this the norm in Eulim? It seemed quite lonely; Jarvis always had a word for Tony, usually a sharp one, when he carried out his duties.

The bed’s curtains pulled back as the prince roused with a grumble. Tony wished he still had his mask, but he made do with a smile. Steven shot Tony a glare, only for it to quickly turn into a blush when Tony dropped his blanket. Tony had heard of Steven’s heroic voyage home, and though he wasn’t sure how much truth there was to the tales, he hadn’t expected the man behind them to be quite like this.

Gripping the sides of the tub, Tony gingerly eased into the water. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan and was rewarded with a flinch as Steven quickly turned away. The water was not as hot as he was used to--he really ought to introduce them to plumbing-- but was warm enough to dull the worst of his pain.

He lifted one of the bottles from a rack hanging on the tub’s side and examined the fluted glass. It bore no label, but the contents emitted a pleasant floral scent he couldn’t quite identify. He examined each of them before selecting one that reminded him of the orange blossoms in the palace gardens back home.

Taking his time, Tony washed himself in broad, languid strokes. The only place he did not linger was the collar at his throat.

The prince put all his effort into not watching, fussing around with the fireplace, then reading the pile of correspondence on his desk. The tips of his ears were still red. Tony dipped his head under the water with a pleased hum. It was more effort than someone with no interest would need to expend.

Clean, Tony got out of the cooling water. He made just as much of a show out of drying off, bending just so as he ran the towel slowly down his arms and legs. The room had warmed considerably thanks to the now roaring fire.

Tony turned his head at a polite knock on the door. Steven rose to answer it, carefully avoiding looking at Tony. A young boy, like the ones Tony had seen running messages, was on the other side.

“High Councilman Fury requested I inform you that the Council will convene in an hours’ time,” the boy said and handed him an envelope. “He also said to give this to you.”

Steven broke the seal with a grimace and read the letter it contained with a thunderous expression. “Is that all?”

The boy squeaked, speaking a little too quickly. “Yes, sir. Is there anything you wish me to relay to the High Councilman?”

“No,” Steven said through gritted teeth, crumpling the paper.

The boy scurried off, and Steven shut the door behind him with a bang.

He tossed the letter in the fire. “Get dressed.”

He got started on his own clothes, finally stripping the dirty clothes he’d fallen asleep in. Tony watched with interest. Steven truly was beautiful, covered in rippling muscles and golden skin with hair to match.

“Why so impatient, darling?” Tony was growing to like what Steven’s face did when he called him that.

Steven dressed himself without looking at Tony. “You’re coming to the Council meeting. They want to approve you.”

So the Princes and Princesses of Eulim wanted to gawk while pretending to deliberate over him. He better make an impression then. Natasha would be there, he realized with a pang.

Tony’s hands found the wine bottle, taking it with him as he went to the chest Gregory sent with him as a ridiculous show of wealth. The chest overflowed with fine fabrics and jewelry suitable for a king’s concubine. What a joke. Male concubines were always at least a good ten years younger than Tony, but the Eulimese didn’t seem to know that.

He dug through the revealing outfits until he found the one garment likely to provide him even the least bit of protection from the elements, a loose silk tunic that fastened at his shoulders. It left his sides exposed and only came down to his mid-thigh, but it’d have to do. The halls would be warm.

He pulled out slippers to match, figuring they’d be better than any of his pairs of sandals. A set of fine chains to hang from his collar went over the tunic. They draped over his sides, brushing the bare skin there, and crossed when they reached the neck. Finally, Tony placed wide metal cuffs with a diamond pattern punched into them on his arms and legs.

He found Steven, a huge red cloak hanging off his shoulders, waiting for him by the front door with his back turned. His eyes widened when Tony came up next to him, looking him over with a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

He sounded strangled when he said, “You don’t have anything more—more?”

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you of this.” Tony tilted his head back seductively, a smile playing at this lips.

“You can’t go out like that.” Steven’s voice was harsh, but he wrapped his cloak around Tony’s shoulders gently.

He took great care in straightening the cloak. Realizing what he was doing, Steven snatched his hands back and he pushed out the door. He didn’t spare Tony another glance as he walked away with his shoulders hunched against the cold.

Tony burrowed deeper into the coppery red fur that lined the cloak and followed after him, out into the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to do a third part to story at some point, so let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> This work has a [tumblr post](http://ayapandagirl.tumblr.com/post/178294795943/today-when-fox-kits-come-out-of-their-den-into) you can reblog!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Concubine AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057660) by [Hayluhalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayluhalo/pseuds/Hayluhalo)




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